The Dangers of Whiskey
by eccino
Summary: Fourteen-year-old boys really ought not turn up smashed to their mother's dinner parties after breaking into their father's liquor cabinets. One shot, but I didn't really need to tell you that.


_**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these characters, we all know that. I just get to hold their leashes and make them do ridiculous things purely for your and my amusement._

_**A/N:**__ This is just a brief distraction from my currently running fiction. I needed a more amusing distraction._

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**The Dangers of Whiskey**

The fourteen-year-old would be thrashed within an inch of his life if his father caught him sneaking into the older mans liquor cabinet. And that would have been the lighter side of the punishment, he was far to terrified to even _begin _to think about what his mother would do to him. But then again, that was the thrill of thing. And besides, who in their right mind would want to turn up to such a boring dinner party sober? He didn't understand why his mother had to have dinner parties every other week, or so it seemed. On the bright side, he only had to suffer through this during winter or summer vacations, winter being the holiday that spurned him this time. And he highly doubted the woman would notice if he showed up smashed beyond a comprehendible thought, she'd be too busy gossiping.

Once he'd gone through all of the whiskey and half the rum, the boy was terrified that, if he didn't hold on to furniture, the floor, or the guests in his mother's party that he'd end up falling off the earth and, being fairly honest, the ceiling didn't look like it was all too soft. It had taken him a great while to make it back to the party, holding on to walls and grabbing any furniture that he could to make sure that his feet remained grounded and once he was back in there and there was no furniture in sight, he began grabbing on to the people.

He made it through the crowd fairly easily, only holding on to the guests for a moment before moving on to the next, he couldn't hold on for longer than that since they all seemed to be on a boat and refused to bloody hold still.

But now that he was drunk, there were some pretty interesting people here. Well, interesting looking would be more accurate. That woman had an extremely large and hairy mole on her cheek and he didn't hesitate to let her know about it and to ask if it was alive. That man's moustache looked like he had cut off some poor cat's tail and glued it to his upper lip and he asked if it had bled much or if the man was able to stop the bleeding immediately, oh, and how did he manage find a cat that was the same color as his eyebrows?

He reached one older woman who looked at him with a deeply disturbed look. My God, did she have a lot of wrinkles. She had to be, like, five-hundred-years-old. It wasn't possible to have that many wrinkles otherwise. He was on the verge of asking if she had ever lost anything in those wrinkles when it appeared that she was going to raise alarm and call his mother over. Instead, a hand shot out and covered her mouth as he attempted to focus in on her face. In a rather slurred voice, the boy managed out, "Shhhhhh….. I'm hunting rabbits!"

He let go of the extremely startled and concerned woman to lurch further into the crowd. Uh oh. He heard the woman call for his mother. Quick, find a place to hide! There. That woman had a rather full skirt. And she wasn't facing towards him. Glancing back, he saw his mother's head parting through the crowd, coming to the old woman who was ratting him out. There was no time. He dove beneath the skirt and pulled it around him, not much caring that the woman or her husband might not like that. The shriek felt like drills were digging their way deep into his brain and the dress was yanked from around him, revealing him sitting there with his knees to his chest and arms around them and the woman's husband as reaching for him to hold him for his mother. Shit.

The boy scrambled to his hands and knees and got away as fast as he could, bumping into many pillars that could only be legs. Damn it in bloody hell, why did father have to put in so damned many posts? Did he not think the house was sturdy enough to hold up without the thousands of pillars that were now obscuring his path to freedom?

There! A gap! He made his way quickly, still on his hands and knees. But suddenly, two of the pillars had on high heels that looked remarkably like… He looked up into the pale face of Narcissa and quickly got to his feet, turning and making his way back into the crowd quickly. It was so much easier to move through these people on his feet. And besides, now all the pillars were gone!

He skidded to a stop as another blonde head make its way towards him came into view. There was Lucius. Shit. He turned quickly to go back the way he had come only to find Narcissa was after him as well. He was trapped, cornered by his parents and really, the crowd of people just didn't help.

Seeing no way to get out, he decided to go out with a bang. Seeing a woman who couldn't have been more than thirty-five – then again, they were all around his mother's age anyway – he grabbed on to her and pulled her in for a very messy kiss. The woman pulled away quickly, giving him a scandalized, violated look as Narcissa took a hold of her son's ear, Lucius coming up to help remove the wayward teen from the party.

The boy punched a fist up in the air triumphantly and, on the top of his lungs, screamed for the room to hear, "I regret nothing! Nothing! Nothing!!"

It was the last thing heard from Draco Malfoy as his parents removed him forcibly from the hall.


End file.
